This week marks my 26th year in the newspaper business—a fact that makes me feel incredibly grateful and mildly shocked.
Grateful, because this job has shaped me more than I ever could have imagined. Shocked, because I could’ve sworn I was just that 24-year-old single mom trying to get from daycare drop-off to work on time and whether I belonged in this world of deadlines, headlines, and sales.
Spoiler alert: Still here!
I worked hard, but I got lucky too. Along the way, I had five mentors—five men, each with their quirks, styles, and belief in my potential — who helped shape me into the always-caring (if busy and slightly distracted) publisher I am today.
First, there was Neil Cameron—of hip waders and fishing rods and an evil grin. He was more riverfront than office space, but somehow, he saw something in me I hadn’t yet found in myself. He handed me a chance I wasn’t sure I deserved and taught me that maybe, just maybe, I could be good at something.
Then came Pierre Pelletier — of corduroy jackets, hiking boots and a quote for every occasion. He taught me the value of fairness, the concept of leadership, and to do the right thing, even when no one is looking. He believed in my ability before I even knew I wanted to grow in the industry.
Paul Somerville of golf shirts and zip-up jackets was all about the details. He taught me to be thorough — thorough. Like, “read the email and the attachment” three times through. And that excellence isn’t just about big ideas —i t’s about the tiny things that hold them together.
Dave Hamilton—keeper of the infamous “smart jacket.” No, really — it stayed on a hanger in his office and somehow increased his vocabulary every time he wore it. Dave gave me the courage to take risks and challenged me to colour outside the lines.
And then there’s Artur Ciastowski. Of bright and bold patterned collared shirts and the sharpest competitive streak you’ll ever meet. We started as rival sales reps in the early 2000s, and let’s just say we didn’t hug it out. When he arrived in Campbell River to be the new publisher, I didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet. We sparred. We clashed. I didn’t make his life easy.
But life’s funny. Two years ago, when I hit a very low point, it was Artur who made it possible for me to take the time I desperately needed. When I came back, he challenged me to grow into a “proper” publisher (still not 100 per cent sure what that means, but I feel like an adult now). And somewhere along the way, he joined this group of mentors who became trusted friends. Don’t tell him, though — he’ll never let me live it down.
Artur has moved on from Black Press to his next challenge now, and yes, it’s eerily quiet without his 18-email mornings and daily calls.
I’m still here, but today I wear sneakers, believe in smart jackets, and sneak flannel into the business-wear whenever I can. I make mistakes, I own them, and I keep showing up for this paper, this team, and this community that has supported us for so many years.
My (figurative) door is always open. Let’s keep the conversation going—respectfully, honestly, and without cuss words ;)
Here’s to 26 years — and counting.
Jacquie Duns
Publisher
